Keepsake
by Liese13
Summary: A new case confronts Raylan with a little boy that is a victim of domestic violence and reminds him a lot of his own childhood with Arlo. How will he deal with the situation when things don't go as planned and he ends up in a hostage situation and it's up to his own worst enemy (or best friend?) to help him out?
1. An empty office

_**Hey everyone, the idea for this story has been spooking around in my head for some time now. I set it at the beginning of season 4 or maybe even some weeks before that. I got the idea for the title from the song "Keepsake" by The Gaslight Anthem. The guidelines don't allow me to post some lyrics of the song but if you want you can listen to it on youtube...I think the lyrics of the chorus fit Raylan well in my story.  
**_

_**English is not my native language but I really hope it doesn't show too much and you'll like the story anyway.**_  
_**I would love to read some reviews or feedback from you guys because it's really important for a writer's motivation (but I guess you know that ;-))**_

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Justified or any of it's characters. I also do not gain any profit for this story, it's for mere entertainment.

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Raylan had his eyes closed and enjoyed the smell of the fresh cup of coffee in his hands. He took another sip and wondered why it was still that quiet in the office. It was almost 9am and usually there'd be chatter, typing on keyboards and ringing telephones filling the air. Raylan looked up again and placed his feet on the desk in front of him.  
Suddenly the door flew open and Rachel rushed into the room.

"Damn, I'm late, did I miss anything?" she asked as she quickly dumped her handbag on her desk.

"Not really..." answered Raylan. "Was there an accident somewhere or something like that?" The question seemed to confuse Rachel.

"Why? No, not that I know of...I simply overslept."

"Then where is everyone?" Only now she seemed to realize that they were almost alone in the office.

"That is odd...I'll check for news online.." She sat down behind her computer but right in that moment the door opened again and Art entered. Raylan realized that his boss looked tired and a bit exhausted.

"What's up, Art?" he asked. "Where is everyone?" added Rachel. Art came to a halt between their desks and took a good look around.

"Morning. Haven't you heard?" he furrowed his brow. "It's this damn flu...Leslie caught it on the weekend. One of the vicious ones, starts out as a common cold but lateron there's fever, nausea..."

"I think we're getting the picture, Art." interrupted Raylan who didn't really need such stories in the morning along with his coffee. "How is she?" asked Rachel looking a bit concerned. Art let out a sigh.

"Couldn't tell...doctor says it might take around two weeks for a woman her age 'till the sympthoms wear off. We were up most of the night but when I left she was finally asleep." He took off his jacket and wiped his shiny forehead with a sleeve. "I guess we could blame that flu for our empty office..." he turned to walk towards his own small office. "I really hope there's nothing big coming in today..." he added.

Raylan observed that his boss was on the phone all the time since he'd come in and he didn't look happy. Half an hour later he called him and Rachel into his office.

"Bad news...I got about six calls with employes calling in sick. Tim's one of them. And even worse: We have a case to work." Art reached out for his notepad and pushed his glasses a bit up his nose. "It's a runner. Classic case, though. A 35 year old female from Tennessee, Susan Bell. She spent some time in jail for robbery, vandalism and blackmailing. She's out for 10 days now and violated her constraints by crossing the state-border to Kentucky."

"Why'd she do that?" asked Raylan who couldn't really understand why someone should risk going back to prison merely for travelling such a short distance where it was most likely to get caught again.

"Well, that's a question you'll have to ask her but a reason could be that her husband lives here in Lexington. A Christian Bell." said Art slowly while trying to surpress a yawn. He didn't quite make it and ended up with his face puckered and looking like a sleepy owl.

"So we'll just pay him a visit and wait for her to show up, right?" detected Rachel. "Wait..." interrupted Raylan. Something seemed very odd about that case. "If the husband is her only connection here in Kentucky, then she must know that we'll be waiting there..." he said slowly.

"Yeah, but we can't be sure that she knows the Marshalls are looking for her." muttered Art and Rachel added:

"And some criminals don't even think about these things...they act out of pure instinct or emotion...such as love."

"Thanks for those wise words of advice, Freud!" remarked Raylan grinning. He wasn't used to Rachel being that cynical but he knew that the seperation from her husband was still preying on her mind.


	2. Bedside manner

_**Alright, before the actual plot starts, there's a little something for you Tim Gutterson fans out there for the weekend ;-) Have fun and thanks a lot for your awesome reviews, keep it up ;-)**_

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15 minutes later they were already on the road heading towards the Bell's address. Raylan was driving with Rachel sitting next to him. She kept staring out the window with a unusually grumpy look on her face.

"You okay?" asked Raylan. He normally didn't mind silence, especially on long drives but this silence started to become really uncomfortable.

"Yeah..." was her slow reply. "I just don't feel like working today...got to deal with a lot of things..." she didn't add _at home _but Raylan knew that these words were on her mind. He had experinced that mood quite often himself and could empathize with his colleague. But on the other side he was not very good at expressing and talking about feelings and had the notion that it would be very awkward for both of them if he tried. So he just muttered "Uhum..." and concentrated on the road in front of him.

"Maybe we should go and visit Tim." she suddenly changed the topic.

"You really think that's a good idea?" Raylan thought that a visit from his colleagues or even Art was the last thing he'd want if he spent most of his time hugging the toilet or lying in bed coughing, looking and feeling like hell.

"Actually yes...I don't think there's anyone taking care of him. Do you know whether he's in a relationship right now? He never talks about these things to me." Raylan had to laugh, the idea of Tim telling him details of his lovelife was just too absurd.

"You kidding? I don't think he tells anyone about these things..." he shot Rachel a look and saw that she had raised her eyebrows. "Alright, we could go there and see if he needs anything. But don't blame me if he expells us with a shotgun or somethin'"

Rachel convinced him to stop by at Tim's flat even before visiting the Bells. Her arguments had been that _It was__on their way anyway _and that _if she really went to see her husband there, she'd stay longer than five minutes._ It was fine with him as long as they didn't let Art know and as long as they kept the visit as short as possible.

He parked the Lincoln and they quickly strolled down the way to Gutterson's apartment. After Rachel had rang the bell they had to wait a long time until there was actually any sign of life to be heard. Raylan had aleady started to think that his colleague might have gone to the doctor or to the pharmacy right after calling in sick, when he could suddenly hear distant footsteps followed by clanging, some very nasty swear words and heavy coughing. Then finally the door opened and they could see a red-rimmed eye which narrowed to a slit as it came in contact with the bright sunlight.

"Oh, it's you..." Tim didn't sound happy just like Raylan had foreseen. And his voice definitely sounded hoarse. "Whatcha doing here? Art want you to check whether I'm really sick or just pretending?" He hadn't lost his crude sense of humor which was a good sign.

"No, we just stopped here as your dear worried colleagues." joked Raylan and got nudged by Rachel's elbow.

"Seriously, how are you?" she asked.

"Well, what do you think?" Tim opened the door and stepped aside to let them inside. He was in fact very pale and looked tired. He was wearing a nightgown over his pyjamas. "You really shouldn't come too close, bet this shit is contagious as hell." he warned them as they followed him into the dimmed living-room. The air smelled old and thick.

"Half the office is empty because of this bug. Art's wife also got it...maybe you should go see a doctor." suggested Raylan because his colleague really looked miserable. Tim just made an airy move with his hand.

"I'll get along with it, just need some days off. What are you guys up to?"

They shortly explained the Bell case to him. "Sounds easy to me..." he muttered and was cut off by another coughing attack.

"Yeah, seems like it...and we should really be on our way now, don't you think Rachel?" Raylan got up to not make the situation any more awkward.

"Yes..." Rachel also got up. "But call us if you need anything okay?" she told Tim in a strict tone.

"Yes, mommy. But seriously: don't worry about me, concentrate on catching that lady. I know it's gonna be hard without me but you can make it." he joked and chuckled a bit. "A shit, my throat hurts!"


	3. Notions

**_Hi, thanks again for your feedback :-) I hope you like the next chapter and the Marshall's encounter with the Bells._**

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A few minutes later they were on the road again. The houses to the left and right got more and more replaced by trees and fields as they came closer to their destination. "You sure this is the right way?" asked Raylan as he attempted to pass a very slow tractor in front of the Lincoln. Rachel unfolded a map.

"Which road are we on now?" she wanted to know.

"I have no idea..." she let out a fretful sigh.

"You know, if you would finally install a GPS in here all this might be a lot easier..."

Raylan was just about to start an argumentation against that silly new technology when he got a glimpse of a dirty roadsign to his left. He hit the brake hard. "What the hell?" cried Rachel. Raylan narrowed his eyes and stared at the roadsign again.

"There it is! See? We were able to find it without GPS." He made a left turn and slowly steered the Lincoln on the very small road ahead. It was more a path than a road. It was very rocky as well and Raylan really hoped his tires would survive the trip.

"Wow..why would anybody want to live here?" asked Rachel as the first few houses came in sight.

"Well, you can do everything you want...and no one gives a shit about it..." muttered Raylan and had to think of a drunk Arlo shouting and pounding against a closet door while he was hiding inside trying not to cry. Raylan began to feel uncomfortable as he pulled in the driveway of the house with the number 9 on it, right behind a dirty red pickup. He could feel Rachel's examining gaze trickling on his skin and knew he should better not have said that.

They got out of the car and went up the porch. There was no name-sign whatsoever on or near the door and a bell was also missing. Raylan and Rachel exchanged a look and then he knocked at the door. No response.

"Well, he has to be here, 'cause the car is. I don't think there's another way of leaving this place..." whispered Rachel. Raylan knocked again, louder this time. His right hand unconsciously found it's way onto the holster.

"Mr Bell, US Marshalls open up!" he called out. A few more seconds passed and then the could suddenly hear a man shouting something inside. Finally the door opened a bit. At first Raylan was confused because it looked as if there was no one standing there but then he heard a whispered "My god..." from Rachel and lowered his gaze. A small boy was staring up at them. Raylan figured that he couldn't be much older than seven or eight. He had a messy bunch of reddish hair and a pair of big green eyes. A huge bruise had formed under the right eye and shone in an ugly yellow.

"Hello?" he asked with a very thin voice. He sounded scared. Raylan kneeled down in front of him and tried to smile a little.

"Hi, is your Daddy home?" he asked the boy softly. His eyes widened in fear and he backed away from them, stepping further into the room. Raylan unholstered his gun and could hear Rachel doing the same as he pushed the door completely open. "Do not move!" was the first thing he heard. He could feel his heart rate rising.

Christian Bell was a stout man with a black and greasy pony-tail. He was wearing dirty jeans and a very crumpled flannel shirt and was pointing a shotgun directly at Raylans face.

"Woow, we're just here to ask some questions!" intervened Rachel, stepped by his side and showed Bell her badge.

"Easy...don't make me shoot you." added Raylan.

"You get out of my house now!" growled Bell and didn't move. "I know why you're here and I know just what to do. I ain't stupid, ya know?"

"Oh really?" teased Raylan. "Well, you definitely are stupid if you don't lower that gun right in this second." he also kept his weapon pointed at the man.

"Your brains will decorate my living room if you don't shut up and listen to what I have to say:" Bell took a deep breath. "I want a guarantee that nothing will happen to my Susan when she makes it here. And I want to take one of you guys hostage until I see her walk in here unharmed and free from all constraints so that she can live here with me again."

Raylan would have laughed if the situation wasn't so serious.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked. "I'll tell you what's gonna happen: You'll stop pointing that gun at us or we'll shoot you right here. It's as easy as that. Your decision." There was a strange whining sound and suddenly the boy came running to his father's side and clenched his leg. Raylan bit his lip, he had forgotten about the child.

"Hey, why don't you wait outside while we talk to your dad?" said Rachel with a very friendly voice but the boy didn't move an inch away from his father.

"So you really would shoot me in front of my son?" asked Bell with a wolfish grin on his face. "Could you live with that, Marshal?" _Could you live with that? Could you live with that? _The words echoed in Raylans head and for once he didn't know what to say. His legs felt soft and very weak and suddenly there was another small boy standing in the room. A boy with brown eyes and dark-blond hair who also had a big bruise in his face. The boy was wearing his fathers cowboy boots which were way too big for him. T'he boy was also clinging to his father's side and there was another man, a priest, dressed in black. _"Could you live with that, Arlo?"_ he asked.


	4. Negotiations & Brawls

_**Alright, it's already chapter 4. Thanks for your kind reviews and also for following the storyl It means a lot to me, especially because I'm writing it in English ;-) I hope you like this chapter.**_

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"I'm the only person he has left in this world. His mother passed away some years ago." Raylan blinked hard trying to concentrate on his present situation again. He wanted to get out of this house and fast.

"It doesn't have to be that way..." began Rachel trying to be reasonable. "I am sure we can work something out without shooting anybody." Raylan heard that she tried to keep her voice calm but he knew that she was quickly searching for a way put of this situation just like him.

"Yeah and there is just one solution of that kind, lady. The one I just told you!" snarled Bell.

Raylan took a deep breath and made up his mind.

"I'll do it." he said. He knew that Rachel and Art would find a way to get him out again. It couldn't be too hard to outsmart that guy. Raylan had shot many people but he was not sure if he could justify killing a father in front of his son. He was going to be a father himself soon enough, goddamnit. The scene would possibly haunt him for all his remaining years.

"Fine." Bell continued to grin."Wasn't too hard, was it? Now put the gun down and come to me very slowly."

Raylan slowly dropped his gun on the floor. He had the hope that Rachel would shoot the guy maybe in the leg or in the shoulder as he approached him but it was risky because the boy was standing so near by him.

"Stop right there." commanded Bell when Raylan was standing right in front of him and shielding him with his own body. No clear shot for Rachel. If only Tim was there now, he would have managed to wound the guy with one of his precision sniper rifles.

"Now leave." ordered Bell. "And tell your boss my demands. I also don't want you people to surround my house until you find Susan and bring her back."

Rachel made a step towards the door. She looked worried and uncertain.

"There's one thing I want to be clear about: If you hurt the marshall in any way there won't be a deal." she said slowly with anger glistening in her dark eyes.

"He'll be fine, if he behaves. I promise." The grin had finally vanished from Bell's face when Rachel left the house with one last look of regret at Raylan.

As soon as she was out Raylan decided to try to subdue Bell. It was risky but if he acted fast enough there could be a chance.

The door had just closed behind Rachel when he decided to move. He quickly swung a right hook at Bell's fat face. The man didn't even see it coming and caught the swing on his chin. He groaned in pain and agony, then quickly grabbed Raylans wrist and swung him around and onto the floor in some kind of karate-movement. Raylan heavily hit the ground with his backside and the impact pressed all air out his lungs. Before he could stumble to his feet again he was looking right into the muzzle of the shotgun. He didn't dare to move away. Bell was breathing hard and sweat was glistening on his forehead.

"Benny, bring me a syringe. Use a bit more than usual."

Raylan could hear the boy moving away and asked himself what was going on here. How could a seven year old prepare any syringes?

"Don't move, asshole. Or you're dead."

Raylan remained word- and motionless for a while.

"Is she worth it?" he then asked after a short pause.

"That's none of your business. Listen, this is what's gonna happen, Marshal: I'll give you something to relax and then you'll peacefully stay down in the basement until your collegues show up with my girl."

Raylan doubted that he'd behave peacfully.

"You are such a clever boy, Christian. I'm looking forward to the day on which I'll visit you and your wife in some prison down in Tennessee. And I believe that day'll come in the very near future. Do you know what you can get for abducting a federal marshall?"

"Argh, you're getting on my nerves, mister. Benny!" he called out angrily.

"I'm coming, daddy. Don't get mad!" cried the boy's voice from some other room and shortly after he returned to them, holding a huge syringe with a clear liquid in it.

"What's that?" wanted Raylan to know and tried to get a better look at the content.

"It's the good stuff. Don't complain, it was expensive enough. It's actually a shame to waste it on you...but It'll make things easier, you'll see. Don't want you to make trouble while you're here." Raylan really didn't want some unknown substance in his system. He tried to get on his feet but Bell pressed the shotgun against his chest.

Then he pushed the barrel aside with a very quick movement of his hand because he knew that Bell wouldn't dare to shoot a US Marshall. And at first it seemed to be working. Bell looked puzzled while Raylan struggeled to get back on his feet and wrest the shotgun from his opponent. He landed a quick punch at Bell's head and reached out for the gun. He got a hold of the barrel and violently pulled it to the side to free it from Bell's grip. But right in that moment Raylan was kicked in the left leg which brought him off balance. He dropped to the ground and pulled Bell with him because they were both clinging to the gun. For some seconds they struggeled on the floor, each one trying to get the shotgun.

Raylan tried to use the barrel to choke Bell but he suddenly rolled to the side and hurled Raylan away from him. The gun slipped out of Raylan's hand as he flew through the air and hit his head on something solid – the leg of a table as he later learned. Bright stars glistened in front of his eyes as a sharp pain raced through the back of his head. Raylan was glad that he stayed conscious but his reaction was too slow to prevent the next thing from happening. He could hear Bell approaching him, gasping for breath. Some seconds passed in which Raylan wasn't able to move much and then he could feel the needle being stabbed in the side of his neck. It hurt like hell because he had all his muscles tightened up. Bell injected him whatever it was and then put the syringe away.

"Try to relax. It's not too bad actually."

He almost didn't realize when the drug hit him because he was already feeling miserable but then suddenly from one minute to the other his vision started to go crazy. Everything started to look blurry and the colors of his surroundings seemed to melt into each other. At the same time he could feel his heart rate drop and as well his breathing. He'd been drugged and had no idea with what. He could not really think straight any longer. Raylan heard someone saying something but he couldn't make out what it was. Then he felt a firm grip around his shoulder and thought that he was moving, maybe being dragged somewhere but he wasn't sure. At some point the drug caused him to doze off.


	5. Suspicion

**_Hey everyone, now in this chapter Boyd will finally enter the scene ;-) I hope you still like the story, and as always, let me know what you think._**

**_Have fun :-)_**

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When he came to again everything still seemed very unreal. He opened his eyes and figured that he was in a sitting position, leaning against something. His chin was resting on his chest and Raylan really just wanted to go back to sleep. _Come on, move your ass or you'll never get outta here! _He told himself and finally raised his head to get an idea of his surroundings. Considering his tense neck muscles he figured that he must have sat there in this position for quite some time. Instinctively he raised his hand to rub the back of his neck, everything seemed to be put in slow-motion. _But at least__n__o ties, _he thought, _it's something. _

"You've been asleep a long time." the voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

Raylan jerked and automatically reached for his gun, which was not in his holster – of course. Instead he narrowed his eyes and tried to make out who had spoken. He seemed to be in some kind of basement room which was only dimly lit. He was leaning against a huge metal shelf which was almost empty and to his left he could see an old and very dirty washing machine. He heard light footsteps and then recognized the boy, Benny approaching him.

"Yeah? How long exactly?" talking was hard work. His tongue felt heavy and like a dry cloth.

"Around two hours..." Benny came closer but very slowly. Raylan's hat was sitting on his reddish hair but he looked shy and a bit scared.

"What are you doing down here, Benny?"

"Look after you. Dad told me to. But I don't mind, I'm often here...what's your name?" Curiousity seemed to have defeated fear. Raylan tried to smile a little but the numbness in his body and the dizziness made it really hard.

"I'm Raylan." He made a pause, taking some deep breaths and trying to get his fuzzy brain to work faster. "So, Benny can you tell me..." he had to pause the sentence again to swallow, because his throat was way too dry. "...tell me what your father injected me?" The boy shrugged.

"Medicine...the same daddy often takes...but you got more than he takes. You must be really sick."

"Maybe I really am." muttered Raylan. Of course the boy was too young to know about drugs. Better for him. "What happened to your face, Benny?" The boy sat down in front of him but kept some distance. He avoided eye-contact as he slowly answered:

"Dad hit me this morning...I dropped a glass and it broke...he was in a very bad mood." Raylan sighed.

"Is he often in such a bad mood?" he asked carefully. Benny continued staring at the floor shaking his head but remained silent.

A flash of sharp pain raced through Raylans head. He gritted his teeth as other memories from his early childhood came to his mind. What had only been a notion some hours ago was now a certainity: This boy reminded him a lot of his own miserable childhood with Arlo. He started to feel really sick because he couldn't stop the surpressed memories from flooding his mind. It was as if there was a movie being played in his head.

* * *

Boyd parked the pick-up some distance away from the house, it would be best if his customer wouldn't see him coming. He had not paid Boyd the full sum for his purchased amount of Oxy yet. Boyd normally didn't necessarily do these visits himself but this address was an exception. He wanted to make sure the boy was okay. He was aware that he himself wasn't an angel and that he had to use violence on several occassions – it came with the job – but hurting young children was not okay, unexcusable. Boyd had sworn to himself that if he saw the boy there again with multiple bruises he'd make an anonymus call to the welfare service.

He approached the shabby house with long strides and knocked on the door.

"Who's there?"

"Boyd Crowder, Mister Bell. I need to speak to you."

"Whatcha want? I don't have time for this now."

"Let me in, Christian, or I'll return with some of my men. Would you like that?" The door finally opened. Bell was afraid of him, Boyd knew that.

"Come in, Mr. Crowder." Bell led him into the untidy living room and offered him a seat on the green couch.

"Well, I hope you remember that you still owe me some money for your last purchase..." Boyd started slowly. Bell made a grimace and bit his lip.

"I don't have it yet. I told ya." Boyd nodded.

"Yes, you did and I set up a deadline for you to come up with the money...that deadline ended yesterday."

"Yesterday? Damn, I thought I had some days left...you know I have a lot on my mind at the moment...my girl's gonna visit me and there are some problems..."

"I don't care!" interrupted Boyd because he wasn't interested in any of Bell's personal problems, he just wanted his money. "Listen...if you really don't have the money now, you could just give me back the rest of the dope as some kind of downpayment."

"I- I would but I don't have any of it left." Boyd could feel the rest of his patience fade away.

"This can't be true...I sold you enough to last 2 weeks with it...so you should have something left. Don't lie to me, Christian. It's the dope or the money. Take it or leave it, this is already a very obliging offer from me."

"I'm not lying to you! There's nothing left!" cried Bell looking scared.

"There has to be! You didn't give your son any of it, did you?"

"No, for christsake!"

"Where is he by the way?" Bell hesitated and didn't answer immediately but Boyd watched his eyes and saw their short movement in the direction of the small wooden door leading down to the basement. "Did you beat the crap out of him and leave him down there?" asked Boyd while rising from the couch. Bell didn't answer. Boy drew his gun and pointed it at the man. "You wait here!" he ordered and opened the door to the basement.

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**_Maybe I should mention that I'm no expert on the field of drugs and their effects...I did some research though and hope that it works out and kinda sounds plausible...but if someone wants to correct me in this or the the following chapter, please do. There's always something new to learn ;-)_**


	6. An unexpected encounter

_**Here you go with a longer chapter containing Boyd's and Raylan's POV. I hope you like it :-)**_

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The feeling that something definitely wasn't right in that house settled as he descended the creaking stairs to the basement. It was only one huge room which was poorly lit by two naked bulbs hanging from the low ceiling.

"Who's there?" he almost jumped at the sound of the boy's voice. He was standing close to one of the bulbs wearing a familiar stetson. But that couldn't be true, no way.

"It's me, Boyd Crowder. You don't need to be afraid." Boyd lowered his gun as he walked towards the child that again had a nasty bruise on his face. That was it, he'd definitely call child protection service that day. Get him out of that house.  
He quickly canvassed the room, it was a typical basement room with shelves, some old furniture and a washing machine that didn't seem to have been used for some time.

And next to it was a slumped figure leaning against one of the shelves. Boyd recognized the boots and the combed-back hair. "What the hell?" he whispered and went to kneel down beside Raylan. He seemed to be knocked out or something. What in the world was he doing there?

"Raylan!" he grabbed him by the shoulder and suddenly saw the slightly swollen bruise at the side of his neck. He took a closer look and made out the mark from a needle in it's center. Now he had a hint about where the rest of his Oxy might have gone. "Raylan!" he shook the man now, knowing all too well what an overdose could cause.

"I was talking to him but then suddenly he fell asleep again..." said the boy with a whiny voice and stepped to Boyd's side.

"It's not your fault...don't you worry son. Did your daddy give my friend here some of his medicine?"

"Yes...is he going to be alright?" "I guess so..." muttered Boyd while checking Raylan's pulse and breathing. All seemed to be normal. "You got some water down here?" Benny handed him a bottle. It was almost empty, but all he needed were a few drops. Boyd carefully let the water drop on Raylan's face and he finally came to, grunting and dazed.

"Whaat?" he slurred and made an attempt to push Boyd's hand away.

"Hold still, Raylan!" Boyd quickly peeked at his eyes. His pupils were blown but he would propably be alright...after a good night's rest. "You've been drugged." Boyd explained calmly.

"Well, you don't say." snarled Raylan sounding drunk. "I bet it was your shit they injected me, hm Boyd?" he then muttered and tried to get to his feet but couldn't hold the balance and dropped to the floor again.

"What are you doing here by the way?" wanted Boyd to know.

"I could ask you the same I guess...but I'm not feeling so well..." he then complained and leaned back against the shelve.

"He is a marshall, he came here together with a woman and they wanted to ask daddy about his wife." reported Benny.

"Ran over from Tennesee..." murmured Raylan.

"And what happened then?" asked Boyd.

"I don't know...I don't really understand it." admitted Benny.

"Bell wants an exchange...me for his lady...Rachel's still looking for her." explained Raylan and it seemed to take him a huge effort to concentrate. Boyd took some seconds to quickly put the pieces of the puzzle together until he had an idea about what happened some hours ago.

"Right, so my suggestion would be to get out of here, the three of us. I still have my gun and I know Bell. We'll walk up there and confront him. Can you walk, Raylan?" Raylan glanced up to him.

"You tell me...it's your damn dope..." he slurred and Boyd began to feel annoyed.

"Well I don't know how much he gave you. You'll have to try." he grabbed Raylan by the hand to pull him on his feet. He staggered around a bit but could steady himself with some help. They slowly made their way towards the stairs but didn't get very far. Bell obstructed their way up because he stood on the first step pointing a shotgun at them.

"What are you doing?" he asked looking suspicious.

"I'm on my way out of here. Together with this fellow marshall." explained Boyd calmly.

"He has to stay, Crowder!"

"No, I don't think so..."

"It's none of your damn business what I do in my home. If you leave now, I won't hurt you."

"Well, you better don't because my people will come after you if I won't be back home in the evening. I told them where I'm going." That was a lie. He had only told Ava where he was going but on the other hand he knew that she could handle a gun very well. "And you gave your last Oxy supplies to this man here, what makes it my business because I only gave you permission to use it for yourself. Are you aware that you almost gave the marshall an overdose? Look at him!" he called out theatrically. Raylan was indeed leaning against the handrail and blinking heavily. It looked as if he had trouble focussing his gaze. Bell bit his lip and seemed to be uncertain about what to do next. "I won't leave without him." emphasized Boyd again.

"Fine, then you both stay here."

* * *

Raylan tried to get a glimpse of Boyd's face to see how he would react and then saw Boyd's gun resting in the holster on the right side of his hip. He figured that he could reach out for it very well from his position. His head was still fuzzy and everything looked warped but he decided that this was the only chance he would get. Before anyone else in the room realized what he was doing, he grabbed Boyd's gun and shot Bell in the right knee.

The blow-back made Raylan stumble and crash to the ground – his body still didn't obey his mind's orders. In the very same second Bell cried out in pain and also the boy let out a scream, staring at the scene in pure horror. But the shot caused exactly what Raylan had wanted it to. Bell's leg gave away and he stumbled down the stairs, still screaming in pain. Boyd quickly leaned forward and took hold of the shotgun. That was it, they had won.

"Daddy!" cried the boy but Boyd held him back.

"He is gonna be alright..." he tried to sooth the child. It didn't quite work out because Bell was rolling around on the floor, hands clenching around the knee which leaked a lot of blood. Raylan realized that he was still lying on the floor and tried to get up but his numb body had enough of all this. He could suddenly feel cold sweat on his brow and a strong wave of nausea. He rolled to the side and threw up on the cold tiles. He couldn't remember having felt that bad before in his life. The child was still screaming in panic and Bell was grunting and coughing.

"Raylan? Are you okay?" Boyd stepped to his side.

"I'm still breathing, if that's what you mean." muttered Raylan, the sour taste of bile in his mouth made him almost throw up again.

"We need to get you out of here, you might need a professionell detox."

"We have to inform Rachel and Art...and an ambulance." Raylan could hear that his voice started to slurr again.

"Okay, I'll make the calls. You stay put here." He could hear Boyd stepping aside and speaking into his phone with a low voice.

"Let's get you upstairs..." he then said. "And outta here..."

"We can't just leave them here, we gotta wait until the marshalls show up." muttered Raylan and slowly sat up. He saw Benny sitting by his father's side, silent tears were running down his cheeks while Bell was fully occupied with examining his injury.

"You shot me in the knee-cap!" he exclaimed.

"Be glad I didn't kill you, Asshole!" was Raylan's response and after that he had to close his eyes for a moment because the world seemed to be spinning around like a crazy ferris-wheel.

"Benny, could you get some towels for your Dad's little injury there?" he heard Boyd ask and shortly after the light steps of the boy on the stairs.

"Can I ask you something?" he then heard Bell, who sounded as if he was talking through gritted teeth. "Why do you even care about this marshall? Thought you hated cops and shit..."

"Well, Raylan and I used to be friends..." was all that Boyd answered. "Raylan, you got handcuffs? Guess we should cuff him and leave him here until your colleagues show up." Raylan opened his eyes again and fumbled for his cuffs to throw them over to Boyd.

"You don't need to do this! Where you think I'm going with this leg?" whined Bell but Boyd ignored him and cuffed his hands behind his back.

Then he pulled Raylan on his feet. His legs were shaking but he was able to take a few steps and just about made it up the stairs and in the living-room where he slumped down on the next couch. His head felt fuzzy and he was still sweating like a pig. He figured that also his heart rate was too high and concentrated on slow and regular breathing. He couldn't really see what Boyd was doing but heard him talking to the boy somewhere in the distance. Raylan tried not to think about the strange dreams he'd had an hour ago. The worst memories of his childhood which he had suppressed for many years. Boyd should not know about this but he figured that he'd have to talk about it with someone someday. Maybe Winona...

* * *

**_So what do you think? What should happen next? The thing is that I prepared two versions of how this could go on from there. I have no idea why my silly brain made me do that because now I can't really decide which version I should take for the next chapter(s) :D. So I figured I'll just ask my dear readers which one they wanna read :-P. _**

**_In the first version, Art and the ambulance will show up and find everyone at the Bell's house, Raylan and Bell will be taken to a hospital and Boyd and the boy'll get questioned by Art..._**

**_In the second version Raylan won't be there to be found and neither will Boyd...because he'll take Raylan back to Ava's place to get him "sobered up" and ask him not tell the marshalls about his own involvement in the story and of course the Oxy. _**

**_Please tell me which version you'd like to read in a review or a pm ;-) Would help me a lot with my decision and it's a possibility for you to influence the rest of the story ;-)_**


	7. Escape

_**Okay, that didn't exactly work out the way I planned :D I got one vote for the first version and one for the second..but still thanks to TheArchivist613 and SJ for their participation.  
So now I'll just go with the version I liked a bit better, I hope you like it (It's got more Boyd and Raylan than the other)**_

* * *

Boyd returned to the living-room and found Raylan lying there on the couch. He looked very miserable but it was definitely time to get him out of this place and disappear before the Marshalls showed up. They better didn't find their colleague in this condition. Boyd had only called the ambulance without mentioning his name. He'd also told them that he'd heard shots fired in the house. The marshalls would find out soon enough what had happened.

"C'mon, let's leave this place." Raylan blinked up to him looking confused.

"Where to? Told ya I wanna wait 'till Rachel and Art show up."

"There's no time. We'll take you to Ava's place, she can stitch you up." Ava had in fact some knowledge about treating drug-abusers. Some of her girls had taken ODs on several occasions, sometimes by accident but also sometimes on purpose. They had a medical kit at home which should do the trick. Now he only had to get Raylan home and that fast before the ambulance arrived. He was certain that Raylan's boss would be able to connect the dots if he found his marshall drugged with Oxy and in the presence of Boyd. He'd of course start to search for Raylan but hopefully not think of Boyd first. It was a shame that he had to scowl the boy into silence by scaring and threatening him but that way he wouldn't tell the marshalls about Boyd's presence in the house - hopefully.

"I'm not gonna go with you Boyd. The others will be looking for me. You just wanna cover up your involvement in this."

"I wanna help you. Can you walk?"

"Maybe...but I'm not coming with you." Boyd knew that Raylan was being serious but also realized that he wasn't really in a condition to protest. So he just grabbed him by the shoulders, which felt very warm and moist and violently pulled him up.

„Stop it!" Raylan complained and tried to free himself but he was not strong enough in this situation. Boyd tried to push him towards the door but it wasn't easy. Raylan was still a tall and heavy man and he really tried to get rid of Boyd's arms.

"Listen, I don't want to hurt you..." muttered Boyd. Maybe he should have had Raylan cuffed instead of Bell. He finally managed to get him out the door and into the warm early evening.

"Wait a minute..." Raylan suddenly dropped to the floor, onto his knees and hands and threw up again. If one could call it that since it wasn't really much more than spitting and coughing. Boyd remained by his side and carefully watched the surroundings. No soul was out on the street and he couldn't hear the sound of sirens yet. But they were running out of time. He glanced down at Raylan again. The last attack seemed to have put him over the edge. Sweat was glistening on his forehead and he was breathing heavily.

"Come on, we'll get you some help!" Boyd had to admit that he was a little worried about his old friend. Maybe he should let Ava know what happened so that she could prepare everything. Good thing about Raylan's state was that he'd stopped resisting him. He could barely walk alone and Boyd had to support him but somehow they made it to the truck waiting by the side of the road. Raylan didn't say a word, not even when Boyd helped him climb on the passenger seat, just groaned sometimes. He then remained motionless with his eyes closed as Boyd quickly started the engine and drove back on the road.

He was just turning in the main-street again when he suddenly heard loud sirens and had to stir the car to the very right side of the street to not collide with the ambulance van that passed them at high speed.

Boyd brought the truck back on the street again and searched his pockets for his cellphone to call Ava.

"Hey babe, what's taking you so long? I'll have dinner ready in some minutes." she said.

"Well, there is a problem...I need you to prepare one of your Oxy OD-kits."

"Why? What happened?" she sounded alarmed and worried. Boyd explained everything as briefly as he could. After that she didn't say a word for some seconds. "Raylan? What was he doing there?"

"I only know the very broad context...but that's not really important now, is it?"

"And he was given our Oxy?"

"Most propably. You understand now why I couldn't leave him there for the marshalls?" She sighed. Boyd could actually picture her in that moment, brushing back a strand of her beautiful hair, her brow a little furrowed.

"Yes, I see. When will you be here?"

"45 minutes, more or less. See you then." he hung up and looked at Raylan again. He still hadn't moved nor opened his eyes. "Raylan? Are you still with me?" he asked carefully.

"Uhum. But everything...just won't stop spinning around..." he muttered.

"You'll feel better soon, Ava will know what to do."

"She ain't a nurse, Boyd..."

"Just tell me when you have to throw up or sometin"

* * *

It was already getting dark when he pulled up the car in front of his and Ava's home. "Almost there..." he encouraged Raylan as they stepped out the car. Boyd had to almost carry him towards the house and onto the porch, Raylan's legs didn't seem to work any longer. Boyd knocked on the door and Ava opened up immediately. It was as if she'd waited for them sitting right next to the door. She quickly hugged him and he gave her a tender kiss. Then she turned towards her patient.

"How bad is it?" she asked. Raylan was leaning against the doorframe now, head low and eyes barely open.

"You tell me..."

"Hey Ava..." Raylan whispered.

"Hey. We should get him in and to the guests room..." They somehow managed to get Raylan up the stairs to the small bedroom in which Boyd used to sleep before he started sharing the bed with Ava.

She already had everything prepared there with a bag of saline solution and some needles.

"Lay down there." instructed Ava and he collapsed on the bed. "Please hold still..." Boyd oberserved how she attached a drain tube to the saline solution and picked up a needle. "I need more light..." she then realized and Boyd quickly switched on all lights in the room.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" slurred Raylan who was laying on his back now blinking up to them. Ava decided to ignore that.

"Can you make a fist? I need to find a vein."

"You're gonna get me killed..." muttered Raylan but made a fist with the right hand. She attached the tube to the crook of his arm and tied the bag to the curtain-rod over the window because they were lacking a professional hospital rack for it.

"You shouldn't move too much or the thing may fall down, understood?" Raylan nodded, then made a grimace and closed his eyes again. „You'll propably feel better in the morning. I'm gonna give you something to help you sleep." Raylan didn't raise any objections and Boyd exchanged a look with his girl. He really didn't look good with beads of sweat running down his pale face. Ava came closer and pulled Boyd out on the corridor.

"This is bad, Boyd. Worse than I've ever experienced. I think you should've better taken him to a hospital." she said. "I'm not sure whether only the saline solution's gonna work out this time."

"The doctors would soon find out who he is and call the marshalls." objected Boyd.

"Yes, maybe. But I don't wanna be responsible for the death of a marshal. And this is Raylan we're talking about."

"Alright, alright. Maybe we wait say one or two hours and if it gets worse I'll call an ambulance." suggested Boyd. Ava didn't look satisfied but she nodded slowly.

"I'll go get him something to sleep, maybe it will help."

They did everything they could for Raylan. Boyd helped him out of the boots and the sweaty jeans and shirt while Ava brought the medicine. He searched the jeans' pockets for Raylans cellphone but realized that Bell must have already taken it. Boyd had to make sure that Raylan wouldn't call his colleagues during the night. After that he got a cold, wet towel which he placed on Raylan's hot forehead. Then they waited sitting on the other side of the bed speaking to him with calming words until his breathing got slower and more regular again and he fell asleep.

"Let's get something to eat, we'll check up on him again after that..." whispered Ava then and they went down to the kitchen where a delicious meal was already waiting.


	8. Awakening

_**So here's the next one, I guess there are no more than 2 or 3 chapters left for this story. I hope you still like it. Guess you realized that I changed the formatting a bit, thanks to Kari for making me aware of it. As I mentioned before I'm always happy to recieve feedback or advice of any kind and am willing to make changes to make the story easier to read.**_

_**btw: Have you seen the latest episode? I had to laugh so hard about this guy's nickname "Yolo". First I thought I didn't get the name right and found it totally hilarious with Augustine (if the name's spelled like that...) shouting "Yolo" all the time :D And did this guy really punch out one of Boyd's teeth? How could he -.-**_

* * *

When Raylan finally woke up, it took him some time to realize where he was. At first he stared at a wooden ceiling which seemed to be familiar. Then he slowly sat up and figured that he was at Boyd's place. He couldn't quite remember how he'd gotten there, though. Something soft and heavy suddenly dropped in his lap. A folded towel which was still wet. The next thing he realized was the tube in his arm. "What the hell?" escaped his lips as he followed the string up to an empty plastic bag which was sitting above the window on the curtain-rod. What in the world had Boyd and Ava done to his body? He carefully removed the tube, the wound started to bleed a little but not too bad.

A look out the window told him that it had to be early morning, the sun was just about to rise. Already the next day...Raylan figured that he had to call Art as soon as possible and tell him that he was okay. Carefully he put his bare feet on the floor and slowly got up. His head hurt and he felt a little dizzy but it wasn't worse than a morning after some heavy drinking. Raylan put on his jeans, the shirt simply smelled too bad and was beyond dirty. Had he taken the clothes off himself? He couldn't remember that. Yup, it definitely felt like a hangover. There were two doors in the small bedroom. The one to his left was slightly open and he could make out a bathroom. He approached the other door, it was time to find a phone and then leave this house. But the door seemed to be locked, he could turn the door-knob as much as he wanted, the fucking door wouldn't open. They'd really locked him into the room. "

"Boyd!" he called out as loud as he could while pounding against the solid wood. "Get me the hell out of here now!"

Nothing happened, everything in the house was perfectly quiet. Raylan examined the door thinking about whether he could kick it in but had to admit that he was still to weak to try it.

"Boyd Crowder!"he yelled again and realized that his throat felt really dry. „Or Ava, is anybody here?"

Some more minutes passed and then he could finally hear distant footsteps. A turning key in the lock and finally the door opened. Boyd was standing in the doorway, wearing pajamas and looking very sleepy.

"Well, I'm glad to see that you seem to be feeling better." he said and rubbed his eyes. "If you could maybe stop yelling, I want Ava to get some sleep, she stayed up very late to make sure you were okay.".

"Why did you lock the door?"

"To prevent you from doing some thoughtless things..." answered Boyd evasively.

"Like what? Call the marshalls? Well, I'm gonna do that now anyways." Raylan attempted to shove Boyd aside to get onto the corridor but the other man didn't step aside.

"I can't let you do that, before we discussed something." Raylan couldn't really believe it.

"Discuss what exactly? You can't cover what happened in that house. And Art's gonna be really pissed when he finds out that you kinda abducted me, so I suggest you better let me leave right now." He could see in Boyd's face that he was slowly losing his patience as well.

"Ava and I took care of you here. You wouldn't even be out that house if it wasn't for me, you remember? You'd propably still be sitting in that damn basement drooling on your shirt. You owe me a little favor." Raylan didn't like it but had to admit that Boyd was right in a way.

"What do you want, Boyd? I won't lie to Art if that's what you have in mind."

"I never said anything about lying. You could maybe just forget to mention some things..."

"Very funny, how should I explain that they didn't find me at the Bell's house where they left me?"

"Well, you escaped..." Raylan raised his eyebrows. „It's not really a lie, strictly speaking...you just mustn't mention that I was at the scene."

"Yeah right, I escaped and just didn't bother telling anyone where I went or what?" Boyd remained silent for some seconds, his brow furrowed and lost in thought.

"Turn around."

"What? Why?"

"I gotta check something." Raylan slowly turned around, although he really didn't like the idea of standing with his back against Boyd. He suddenly felt fingers on the back of his head. Sharp pain raced from there through his body.

"The hell are you doing?" Raylan turned around.

"You got a pretty big bump there. I remembered seing it before."

"Got smashed against a desk..."

"Great, so you just tell this and that you were too confused to call anybody, suffered a concussion and stuff." Raylan was still far from being convinced.

"But Bell and his son witnessed the whole thing and the marshalls will interview them."

"I'll take care of that." Boyd looked very confident.

"I'm not sure if I can do this, Boyd..."

"Please try your best." pleaded Boyd which was very unusual for him. "You know what would happen if your boss found out that you've been drugged with Oxy. He'd make some inquieries and these might in the worst case lead him to me."

"I'm sure it would, everyone knowing you suspects you of selling the stuff. You'd be back in jail very fast. And maybe that would be the right thing. Harlan's fucked up enough, even without a working drug-scene." Boyd sighed.

"Raylan, I'm sure you know that if I went to jail another one would continue the business. It wouldn't change a thing." he paused looking uncomfortable. "Look, I'm trying to make things right here with Ava. We want to marry one day, make ourselves a home, maybe raise a little family."

"Aw, how cute..." mocked Raylan. "And you think these plans are gonna work out with the two of you running drugs and whores?" Boyd didn't respond to that. "Okay, I'll try to follow that story of yours but if the whole thing blows up in my face I'm gonna tell the whole story or I'll be in serious trouble." Boyd looked clearly relieved.

"Thank you Raylan, I mean it. Now, if you let me quickly dress up I can take you home."

Boyd disappeared again. Raylan walked into the small bathroom to splash some cold water in his face and stare at himself in the mirror. God, he looked old. He realized that his hair was too long and messy. An when had he gotten that many wrinkles near the eyes and on the forehead? The bruise on the side of his necked looked gross and stood out from the pale skin around it. He needed a shower and a proper breakfast. After that he would maybe be able to find a way to cope with the discrepancy between his loyality to Art and to his old friend Boyd.

He returned to the bedroom and picked up the shirt laying on the floor. It was one of his favourite checked shirts which didn't really mean much since he didn't own much more than four proper shirts. Raylan hoped that they could save it at the cleaner's. He found some drips of dried blood on it and something that looked and smelled like vomit.

"Ready to go?" he jerked at little as he heard Boyd's voice. He'd approached him without making any sound. How in the world did he always do that? "Yeah, let's go..."

* * *

Boyd dropped him off at the Bar. "Say Ava thanks from me okay?" were his last words to Boyd as he climbed off the seat. It was still early in the morning and therefore no one present in the bar. He could be glad that the door wasn't locked because Lindsey used to sometimes lock everything up after closing the bar. He directly walked up to the phone by the bar, because he had no idea where his own cellphone was. One glance on the clock hanging above the shelf where the alcohol was stored told him that if he was lucky, his boss would already be at the office. And he actually answered the phone after no more than three seconds.

"Mullen?" Raylan realized that his boss sounded very strained.

"Art, it's me." A short silence.

"Raylan?" he then called out. "My god, where are you? Are you okay?"

"I have been better but I'm alright. I''m at home."

"At home? What happened? Why didn't you tell us? I was worried sick here, stayed at the office almost the whole night." A bad conscience overwhelmed Raylan and he had to swallow hard to be able to tell his story.

"I...I'm not so sure what happened. I managed to escape from the Bell's house but I think Bell and me had a fight before that, hit my head pretty badly. I think I shot him in the leg...all I remember after that is that I got out that house and somehow made it back home...I wanted to call you right then but my cell was gone. I sat down on the bed and was out somehow...asleep or unconsicous, I don't even know. Just came to again."

"Jesus, Raylan! I'll come on over and see you immediately!" Raylan wanted to ask him if they'd found Susan Bell and how her husband was doing but his boss just hung up on him. Raylan walked up to his room hating himself for causing his boss and colleagues to worry about him. Art had even spent the night at the office. He was an old man and had a sick wife at home and still he hadn't stopped searching for him. The guilty feeling still preyed on his mind as he undressed and stepped in the shower. The wound at the back of his head smarted as it came in contact with water and shampoo but after the hot shower he felt a lot more alive than before. He put on some fresh clothes and combed his hair. He was just finished when he could already hear some impatient knocking on the door. He let Art in, who looked alarmingly tired.

"Art, I'm sorry that I didn't call you rightaway..."

"Well it wasn't your fault, I'm just glad you're okay. We found these in the Bell's living-room." he handed Raylan his Stetson, cell and service-weapon. "Got a call from local police, they knew that the marhalls are investigating that family. Bell is at the hospital, he lost a lot of blood but he'll be alright the doctors say. But his boy Benjamin is very traumatized, hasn't said one word yet." he sighed. "That poor child...it was obvious that he's a victim of domestic violence. I'll have child protection service look into that matter." he stepped a little closer and eyed Raylan suspiciously.

"Sure you're okay? You're very pale, maybe I should take you to a hospital to have you checked out, in case you got a concussion or somethin'."

"I'll be fine, Art. Should just propably have a nice breakfast and put some ice on this here..." he carefully fingered the bump on his head.

"Is it bleeding? Let me see." Art gestured for him to turn around.

"No, it's not. I'm gonna be fine." Raylan tried to calm his boss.

"Alright, I'll trust your judgement for now but if I get the impression that you're feeling worse I'll send you to a hospital right away." Raylan nodded approvingly as he set the stetson back on his head. Only then he realized just how naked he'd felt without it. "And now let's get you something to eat."

* * *

_**Reviews are always welcome :-)**_


	9. Surprise, surprise!

**_So only one more chapter to go after this one. How do you like the solution? Hope it surprises you as much as it did me while writing it :D_**

* * *

Art drove them to a diner and after a huge plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and two bagels along with a half liter of coffee, Raylan began to feel more like himself again. He could concentrate much better now and the light-headed feeling vanished.

"How about the fugitive? Have you found her yet?" he asked as he finally put knife and fork away. They had eaten in silence, Raylan figured that Art was either way too tired for talking or that he simply wanted to wait until he had finished his meal.

"Still no trace of her. Could be anywhere. I hope she won't hear about the events at her former home...if not there might still be a chance that she'll turn up there. We have eyes on the house all the time." he sighed. "We could really need Tim with this, gonna have to split up and visit every person in and around Lexington that have a connection to the Bells. We better get back to the office again if you feel up to it. You had enough to eat?" he managed a little smile.

"I'm stuffed. Let's go."

* * *

As soon as they stepped out of the elevator, Rachel stepped on the corridor and approached them fast. She had a very concerned look on her face.

"Raylan! Are you alright?" To his surprise she quickly hugged him.

"I'm fine, Rachel."

"Art told me what happened...I shouldn't have left you there..." she cried.

"You didn't have a choice, calm down."

"What's this?" Rachel pointed to his neck. Raylan had almost forgotten about the colorful bruise which had formed there during the night. He wasn't sure whether one could still make out the mark of the needle there. If he was very unlucky this could jeopardize his story.

"Ah, it's nothing..." he quickly covered the bruise with his hand, rubbing it slightly. "Must've happened when Bell and I were brawling..." Rachel seemed satisfied with that explanation but he caught a glimpse of Art's alarmed and suspicious expression. That wasn't good. Raylan quickly strolled towards his desk and sat down behind it to avoid more of these looks.

"Any news?" asked Art as Rachel also placed herself on her chair.

"Still nothing...Just came back from Christian Bell's parents, I also visited this friend of him. They seem to be the only persons he has contact with, which could also know Susan. But his parents and also his buddy said they haven't seen Susan Bell for years. I also quickly searched the apartments, no trace of her." she sighed. "I guess she's not as dumb as we thought she'd be. She's propably planning to lie down low some place else before paying her husband a visit."

"Letting the waves settle..." muttered Art.

"Clever girl..." Raylan had to admit. "So what we're gonna do next?"

"Guess the next step would be to put her face in the local news...TV and papers. I tried to avoid it 'cause it's not gonna get any easier when she knows we're actually looking for her...if she doesn't know already." said Art. "Well, I'll go and make the calls..."

He disappeared behind his office-door.

"So what exactly happened?" asked Rachel immediately. Raylan raised his eyebrows in suprise.

"Didn't Art tell you?" "Just a very short version...what means basically only that you shot Bell in the knee and escaped."

"Well, that's about it, there isn't much to tell. Right after you left I tried to get a hold of his gun...didn't quite work out we ended up on the floor struggeling and Bell somehow threw me against a table or something like that. Next thing I know is me being down in that shabby basement."

"And how did you shoot Bell? You didn't have your gun on you." wanted Rachel to know. Raylan started to think of a plausible answer what caused his head to ache some more. But before he could answer the questions he heard footsteps on the corridor. And some heavy coughing right after that. It sounded oddly familiar. He turned around in his chair to look at their visitor and found out that it was in fact Tim Gutterson. He looked even worse than the day before with his nose galled red from the use of too many handkerchiefs and a pale face. His hair was messy and he was wearing grey sweatpants and a slightly shabby looking pullover.

"Tim? What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to take the rest of the week off." called Rachel out. Their colleague grinned a very wide grin which suddenly made him look a bit healthier.

"I brought you guys a present." he stated with a very hoarse voice. "You might want to go get Art."

"What is it?" Raylan was very curious now. The grin got even wider, almost splitting his face in half.

"Well, I got one Susan Bell sitting in my car!" he finally gave away. Complete confusion followed. Rachel quickly went to tell Art.

"How in the world did you do that?" their Boss seemed very happy, relieved and devastated the same time.

"I drove to a pharmacy this morning to get some nose spray and something against that shitty cough when I suddenly saw her there. She kinda shows the same sympthoms like me, you shouldn't get too close to her if you ask me."

"Wait a moment..." Art raised a hand to stop Tim's report. "How'd you know what she looks like?"

"Rachel kept me posted."

"He asked me to. Wouldn't stop calling me after he heard what happened to Raylan." admitted Rachel in defense."I sent Tim a photo of her some time in the early morning."

"Alright...I get the picture. And you just saw her standing there in the line at the pharmacy?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what happened. I checked the photo on my phone again and when I was sure that it was her I quickly showed her my badge and convinced her to follow me back to the car, where I kept my cuffs."

"Convinced her?" inquired Raylan who was also grinning by now. "I may have used my gun for it." admitted Tim. "You had your gun and badge on you for buying some stuff at the pharmacy on your day off?" asked Art unbelievingly.

"Well, you never know..." All of them burst out laughing. Raylan had to admit that even himself maybe wouldn't have taken his weapon to a pharmacy.

After that Raylan and Rachel accompanied Tim down to his van to find Mrs. Bell sitting in there hands cuffed to the steering wheel. She was a rather small lady, very slim and with long blonde hair. She could have looked pretty it her face wouldn't have that very resentful look on it. She looked older than she actually was, the time in prison had caused many creases to form on her face. Raylan cut her loose but decided to immediately cuff her again because she made an attempt to punch him on the nose. Fortunately Rachel had seen it coming and stopped her flying fist in the air. With her hands cuffed again Susan Bell tried to spit on them until Raylan quickly turned her around in a direction in which she wasn't facing anyone of them. So now she had to be content with calling them some of the nastiest names Raylan had ever heard – even in Harlan.

They brought her back in the office and into one of the cells.

"Very well." Art looked clearly relieved. "State troopers are already on their way to escort her back to the border. I got enough of this case." He turned around to face Tim. "Good job, Tim. Very good job. But now I want you to get back home and rest. I don't wanna see you here again 'till you stopped looking like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, understood?" Tim chuckled a bit.

"Yeah, I'm outta here. You guys should also take a break, look pretty worn-out. Especially you two." He eyed his boss and also Raylan.

"Get lost." said Art harshly but with a smile on his lips. Tim waved them a goodbye and left. Art's expression became grave again as soon as the doors had closed behind the younger marshall. He turned to face Raylan.

"Can I speak to you for a minute? In my office."

"Uhm, of course..." muttered Raylan with a very bad feeling in his guts.

"Rachel, could you start the report for this one? The sooner we're done here, the better."

"No problem." she placed herself behind her desk and turned her computer back on while Raylan followed Art in his office.


	10. Connecting the dots

They both sat down even though Raylan would have preferred standing because he began to feel increasingly nervous. It was like being called to the principal's office back in school. He'd often had that kind of conversations with Art but if he suspected something now, Raylan could be in serious trouble and he was fully aware of that.

Art leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh eyeing Raylan carefully before he slowly started to talk.

"I just wanted to tell you that I know there's something you're not telling me about yesterday and last night. I'm not stupid."

"I know Art...but..." muttered Raylan – it was a very weak start and he had no idea how to go on but he got interrupted.

"I noticed this morning that your pupils don't react to light and darkness the way they're supposed to. And I also saw that injection mark on your neck. I have an idea about what must've really happened there and also about why you didn't tell me. I suppose it has to do with a certain slim, dark-haired guy with a nice manner of speaking we're both familiar with."

_Damn! _Thought Raylan because his boss had all the dots connected even faster than he'd expected. He didn't quite know what to say in his defense. His head started to pound again.

"I'm sorry, it was just-" Art raised a hand to stop him from saying anything else.

"I don't even wanna know, Raylan. You're here, appearing to be healthy enough, we got Susan Bell and the case is closed for me. I got no reason to put whatever you're not telling me in the report." Raylan felt great relief rushing over him.

"But I hope you know that we'll take Christian Bell's statement and also his son's. If some incriminating facts turn up in these statements you might get in trouble and so would Boyd Crowder, if he's really involved in this."

Art sighed again and the clearly disappointed look on his face made Raylan's stomach convulse in shame. But still he wasn't ready to tell the whole story and send Boyd to his doom.

"I just want to make clear that I don't like you holding out on me. We're doing a dangerous job here and trust is important. If something like that happens again, there'll be consequences and harsh ones. Doing some extra-paperwork won't do the trick next time. You have to make up your mind about who's side you're on. Now take the rest of the day off. Get out of my sight." Art was really pissed and Raylan could see that in every little movement. It was propably best to back away for the rest of the day. He stood up again and slowly walked to the door, opened it and turned his head to look back at his boss.

"I'm sorry, Art."

"You better be!" was the harsh reply. Raylan was just about to leave when one thought crossed his mind.

"What about the boy? Is he taken care of?"

"Yeah, child protection service's having him now."

"Bell beat him. Benjamin told me." Raylan felt that he had to emphasize that. Another sigh.

"I know. I'll have a meeting with one of the officials from the service. I'll tell them. But better make sure to mention it in you report as well."

* * *

Boyd stepped out of the hospital doors and into the sun which was now bright and shining. It was going to be a beautiful day. He couldn't help the wide grin which appeared on his face. Everything was gonna be alright. He was pretty sure that he'd managed to save the situation once again. Christian Bell had still suffered from the effects of the anaesthesia and been sound asleep when Boyd had sneaked into his room. He'd left a letter by the man's bed, which he'd written only some minutes ago in the cafeteria. This letter made very clear what Bell had to expect in case he didn't stick to the right story when talking to the marshalls. The man would realize that it was way easier to leave out Boyd's involvement than having to face severe consequences.

Boyd had also made some inquieries about the boy. He'd met a friendly young nurse on the corridor leading to Bell's room and pretended to be a friend of the family. The nurse had told them that child protection service had already picked him up the evening before.

Boyd considered paying the boy another visit but it would be difficult if he in fact was in custody of the service. On the other hand he was pretty sure that Benajmin wouldn't be a problem. Boyd figured that he simply didn't care whether he told anyone about Boyd or not. And why should he? It wouldn't change anything for his situation at all. He'd still be a 9-year old boy, who would maybe have to spent the rest of his childhood in foster homes. If the persons in charge wouldn't be convinced of the child-abuse he'd maybe even get sent back to his father and everything would propably go on exactly as it had before. But no – Bell would definitely have to spent some time in jail first – better for Benjamin.

He tried to free his mind from all these grim thoughts as he approached his old pick-up and headed home.

* * *

**_The End._**

**_That's it, I really hope you liked my little story and would be pleased to read some last reviews ;-)_**

**_Thank you all for following "Keepsake" and your reviews. They made me very happy and supported me a lot :-)_**


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